I Must Be Insane
by Lady Haku Hitsugaya
Summary: OC characters. Love, lust and insanity. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

I

The breeze blows the stench of rotten flesh across my face and I catch myself before coughing and gagging. There's the sound of my leather glove rubbing against the handle of my dagger as I tighten my grip and the sound of grunting around the corner of the building I press my back against for cover. Judging by the noise made by the shuffling feet on cold pavement there is about four undead. I breathe in slowly through my lips and swing around the corner, getting one on the back of the head before any of them know what's going on. I duck under the outstretched arms of the second and third undead and slash them both on the back of the neck with one wide swing of my dagger, this cuts off their spinal cord to their brains and renders them useless. They both fall to the ground, still conscious but unmoving. I throw my weapon from where I stand and it lodges itself in the forehead of the last undead. I let out that breath I'd taken before and pause for a second before grabbing my dagger and flicking it clean of the thick dark blood that it's coated in. The two that lay conscious are no threat to anyone and so I leave them there to rot with the other two. I look through the darkened windows of the tall building I'd been standing behind. It's a clothes store. Looking down at my bloodied top, it seems about time I changed clothes. I hold my torch up against the glass and flick it on and off to grab the attention of any undead that might be inside. Nothing happens so I shoulder the door open with a bit of effort and after closing it behind me, go to one of the clothing racks. I grab the plainest black top there is and take off my jacket and the stained t-shirt I'd been wearing. There's some blood on my stomach from a fight a few hours ago and I wipe it off with another top from the racks. After changing my t-shirt and underwear I shove a pair of extra cloths into my backpack and pull my jacket on. Before the outbreak I was always so hygienic, it was a shower every morning for me. Man, I miss that luxury, now it's a fresh top and pants whenever I can get 'round to raiding a clothes shop. Most of the people I've come across so far have all smelled nearly as bad as the undead do. It's revolting. That thought reminds me to grab some deodorant from the cases near the checkout isle. I head over there, my hand at my thigh, where my dagger sits in its sheath, which was actually designed for a set of pistols, but I only have one handgun so the right 'scabbard' is for my dagger. There's no one around, so I grab two cans of deodorant and spray all over myself before bagging them. No way am I going to stink like everyone else in today's world.

Its about three pm when I head back out. The air is cold and sharp and bites at my cheeks and nose so I pull my scarf up over my mouth so I can breath against it and heat my face. I only wear my hood if I really feel the need to, when it's up there is a more likely chance of my missing something in the corners of my vision. If I wasn't paying attention an undead could walk right up beside me without my noticing. I hug the walls of the buildings as I walk along a widespread road. Right now I am closer to the center of the city than I am comfortable with, but a hoard of undead drove me this way and I'm afraid to go back incase they're still on the same path, so I'm finding a way around, back to the outskirts of Atlanta. I bring my left hand up to my mouth so I can breath some warm air on my fingers. A scream echoes off the walls of the buildings and I hear a high pitched cry for help. It sounds like a young girl or an even younger boy.

"Shit," I mutter, sprinting down the road. I grab my pistol from my left side and grip it in both hands as I edge towards the corner of the last building on the street. There's a wreckage of a lorry and a car. The front of the truck is dented and the windscreen smashed and dirtied while the car is turned on its side a few meters in front of the lorry. Near the car, about thirty meters away from me is a young girl. She lies on her back, her struggles growing ever weaker as an undead chomps at her intestines while she watches, still awake and terrified, but no longer able to speak. I walk out of my cover and to her side, once the undead notices me I put a bullet in its brain. But then there's the girl. She's staring at me with what looks like hope...like I can save her. I lift my gun again and shoot and her eyes have nothing to show but a cold, glazed-over look. There, in the corner of my eye. I duck and roll behind the upturned car. Someone is in the lorry. The door is open and there, I can see their feet. I aim my pistol carefully, if I can just graze his ankle it will make it hard for him to escape me but he won't be doomed to be eaten alive like the girl was. My gun goes off and I can almost hear the bullet fly through its target...right through. The man cries out and falls back, but instead of pausing to asses his wound, he scurries on his backside behind the large wheel of the truck for cover. I run over quickly and press my back to the wheel he's hiding behind.

"Come out, I won't kill you I just want to ask you some questions," I say and freeze for those few seconds he takes to make up his mind. Then there's the sound of him pulling himself back to the wheel, he'd been about to scoot over to the other side and make a run for it. Glad he reconsidered. I hold out my hand for him so he can get up and he takes it. I stand a few steps away from him with my gun back in its holster. I'm ready though, for any sudden movements.

"You... you shot me," he spoke shakily.

"Yeah, no shit. Just be glad I didn't hit you in any vital organs."

The man, he looks around thirty years old, stands leaning against the truck with his weight on his good leg. "You can take everything I have, just please don't kill me."

"I wasn't planning on killing you unless you gave me a reason to do so. Was that your friend back there? The girl?"

"Yes. Is she...I mean did she...dead, is she dead?" he sounds like he already knows the answer.

"An undead got to her, it had her insides laid out on the road. I put a bullet in her brain so she can't turn," I state, my tone factual and unsympathetic. "Are you alone now or with a group of some sort?"

The man hesitates and shifts his weight onto his bad foot, upon realising what he'd done he yelped and fell back onto his ass. "No, no group it was me and her that's all."

"Humph. You're lying," I say hatefully, holding up my hand in surrender. "Fine, don't tell me, that just proves your loyalty to your group. It's fine," I look down at his sweaty face, creased with pain, and sneer before walking off, further down the street. My gunshots surely caught the attention of every undead within a mile from here. That thought pushes my stride into a run and then into a sprint. It's been three years since the start of the outbreak, but that hasn't made the undead easier to be around. Some are savage and faster than you'd expect. If you're injured or caught off guard then there is a great chance of you becoming dinner. Speaking of, that guy i left behind doesn't stand much of a chance if he doesn't get inside somewhere safe.

 **A/N- I haven't written anything in over a year. If you like then please follow or review. I will update once a week for now. This is the opening chapter, the rest of the story is in second person POV. ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

II

Second Person POV

' _Scraaape, squeeaak, scraaape_ ,' the sound has been cutting through the silence of the storage shed Kara's been held up in for the past half hour. She's tired, hungry and all out of water but can't be bothered to go and deal with the thing making the noise at the door. After turning onto her side, the smell of oil and dust being unsettled from her movement, the scraping stops and her body goes rigid. Did something draw it off? The shadow is gone from under the door, so she must be right, the undead don't lose interest in their potential dinner so quickly. Kara yawns quietly and rests her head back on her grey backpack, ready for a couple hours of sleep. Daydreams of people she'd met and lost these past few years float about in her mind, the face of a young girl with curly brown hair and a scar on her lip...Nyoma. Kara had lost her to a Runner, a quick undead. It came out of nowhere. Nyma's son, Jack was there to see the whole thing and he did nothing. There was nothing he could do, after all. After that he killed himself...

"It was at this door, so there must be somethn' inside it was tryin' to get," the muffled sound of a man's voice jerks Kara out of her near sleep. Quietly, she sits up and takes one big step to get behind where the door will open and hide her. Kara's hands, weak from lack of food and water, grip her dagger tightly, she's ready for an attack.

The seconds that tick by drain her of energy, the anticipation is so tense. But then the door is kicked open. Kara is unable to see the man who steps in, but she does see the other one with him through the crack in the joining of the door to the doorframe. He wears a cap and a check coat, there's a streak of dark blood on his cheek from killing that undead visible behind him on the ground. The man inside looks through her bag. Kara can't come out of my hiding place, there's no way she can take on two strong guys in the state she's in and she knows it. Whilst waiting for the men to leave a plan is already assembling itself in her head. She'll follow them. Then take them out and grab my her and whatever they might have that she need.

"Hey, looks like there was a girl 'ere," he grins after searching the bag. Kara squints her eyes shut for a second. His friend grabs the bag from him when he exits the shed. "Do you think she's still around? No one with a brain would leave this stuff here if they were still alive," he pointed out, shouldering the backpack...her backpack, with everything she owns in it. Kara grits her teeth as they walk away and out of sight.

After letting out a deep breath and getting her shit together, Kara steps outside. It's so bright compared to that unlit and windowless shed that it takes her a second for her eyes to adjust. Once they do, Kara hurries after the men. They had passed the corner of the house the shed was behind and she can see them now, moving carelessly between the abandoned cars on the road. Kara waits a minute before running after them silently. They laugh and yell as if they haven't a care in the world. Idiots. I bet if I waited long enough they'd be ambushed by a hoard of undead and I wouldn't have to do a thing to get my bag back, thought Kara, peeking through a dirtied window of a blue Nisan to get a view of the men. I mean they didn't check behind that door, how did dumbasses like these survive so long...? They must be part of a unite or group, she thought. That means there is no waiting. If they get back to the others then I don't stand a chance. My ammo is in that bag... I've only got a few bullets in my gun and –

Kara's thoughts are cut off by a searing pain in her left calf and she trips over nothing, skidding on the hard, rough ground. Her head slams to the pavement and she bites her tongue hard, the taste of blood flooding her mouth. A man walks up behind her, out of her line of sight. Her vision is blurry but when she looks up she can see four sets of shoes heading towards her... no, two. She's seeing double and so squints her eyes shut tight...

"Please, she's harmless. I took her out with a skim of a bullet to her leg. It didn't even hit her full on..."

"If you say so, but don't blame me if she claws your eyes out, I still think you should cuff her," Kara is half conscious and can hear vague voices of someone arguing in the room with her and to her surprise she can feel something soft under her back. A mattress, which means... crap. She sits up, her eyes wide but hurt by all the white light around her. She can't see straight and can't tell where the people who were talking are. Unless she was imagining it, which is always a possibility.

"Ah, you're awake!" Kara turns and a man is looking down at her happily, a wide smile on his young face. Kara grabs the pillow from behind her and whacks him on the head, then rolls off to her feet. Bad idea.

"Gah!" The pain in her left leg is revived and Kara is forced to her knees, her hands shaking and pressed to the cold floor for balance.

"Uh, I wouldn't suggest you get up just yet," the man, he must be a doctor or something, holds out a hand to help her up. Being the stubborn girl she is, Kara dismisses it and rises to her feet. Or, foot, keeping her weight to one side.

"Where am I? Who are you?" demands the young woman angrily, sweat beads forming on her forehead as she struggles to stand upright. The doctor raises his eyebrows in amusement.

"Aheheh... you're not really in a position to be asking the questions, wouldn't y'say," he laughs awkwardly. Then he stops smiling and kara can see he's even younger than she'd thought. Probably about twenty five, judging by his creaseless, light complexion. His hair is badly cut, like he's done it himself, the uneven black strands reaching past his ears.

Kara says nothing and sits back on the bed, which is one of many now that she can see. It's in a row with several other beds along one wall of a narrow room. Her pale fingers dig into the covers. Kara's missing gloves make her realise that all she's wearing is her black t-shirt and underwear. Her head snaps up and Kara narrows her eyes at him. "Answer me."

The man looks surprised, but doesn't smile again. "I'm Callin, head doctor, great to see you're doing well," he did a mock salut. "That over there is Ayla, she's my second in command of the infirmary," he nudged his head in the direction of a middle-aged woman attending to another patient. She looked over and gave a smile, which Kara, unsurprisingly, didn't return.

Kara looked down at her leg. "Someone...shot me. Who was it?" she enquires, calming her anger.

"Oh, that must've been one of the retrieval team members. You were a potential threat to our scouts," he said sincerely, nodding as if trying to convince her absolutely.

"Right. Can I go?" She's not one for large groups of people. there will be no surviving for those who depend on others to get through each day.

"Nope!" he popped the 'p' in the word nope happily. "You just rest up and I'll bring in Rick when he's not busy. Now I gotta go, but your pants are in that cupboard there if you want them," he nodded to the bedside table near the bed and headed out.

When there's no one left in the room but Kara and some guy who's seemingly unconscious a few beds away, she checks the cupboard and pulls out its contents. There's the set of clothes and deodorant she'd packed the other day but her gun and dagger are missing along with her ammo. _Dammit_. Kara pulls on the clean black jeans and changes her top. After draining the bottle of water they'd left for her, Kara gets up and pulls on her shoes.

Outside the infirmary is a town. Kara's not in Atlantis anymore, that's for sure. The sun is blasting down but the heat doesn't reach her skin, the cold winter air acting as a shield. What's weird is that the town looks intact. No broken down cars or smashed windows... there's even salt on the cement roads to keep people from slipping on ice.

"No way..." Kara limps down the small, open street, keeping an eye on the quiet houses across the road. The lawns are trimmed and someone has a dog chained up in their garden. _This is so weird_. _Maybe I'm still asleep and this is a dream or something._ _No way is this real. A town with no undead. I've never seen anything like it._ A door slams on the street she's about to walk down and Kara ducks behind a bush in one of the gardens. _What am I doing here?_

"She should be alright to talk to by now, just hope she doesn't rip your head off, I heard she's a little bit of a bitch –" their voices are cut off as they turn a corner and Kara can no longer hear them.

"Whatchya doing?"

"Whaa!" Kara jumps and rolls to her feet, totally surprised to see that doctor guy sitting down behind the same bush as herself. _How did he get there without making so much as a whisper of noise_. Her hand instinctively reaches for her dagger, but she grips air.

"No need to be so tense, can't you see? There is nothing to be afraid of here," he smiles, getting to his feet, but doesn't stand before Kara throws a punch at his throat, twisting around to slam the back of her heel into his jaw. He hits the ground again. Kara squats over him, resting her knees on either side of his torso. That kick sent a bolt of pain through her leg and she grits her teeth against the pain.

"The way out. Tell me," grunts Kara, her forearm pressing against his throat. "Now," black spots dot her vision and Kara blinks them away forcefully, she looks at the wet spot that appeared on his cheek, where a drop of sweat fell from her forehead. To Kara's disbelief, he smiles again. There's a perverse gleam in his eyes and she feels his hands close around her waist. Kara's eyes widen as he pulls her flat against him, she can only just keep her head up.

"If you wanted to get intimate all you had to do was say the word," Kara snarls at his words and pushes herself off of him, too sudden for him to react in time. She stands, lifting her bad leg to slam her foot down on his face. But he catches it and Kara grunts in pain as he lifts it high enough for him to get up. Then he throws her leg down again and Kara has to grab his coat to stop herself from hitting the ground.

"Listen, I get it, you're in a strange place, there're no walkers around and you want out," he speaks softly, as if he'd felt before what she is feeling now. Fear of normality. This place is so normal that it's abnormal. The town looks like it's from the past or has been frozen in time, like there was never an outbreak. The only thing modern about it is the giant wall around the whole place.

"You don't know me. You don't get anything," Kara mutters before passing out.


	3. Chapter 3

III

Kara's muscles are so sore when she wakes up, it's as though they'd been replaced with burning bricks. She's back in the white infirmary room, but the guy who was in the other bed earlier is gone. That woman, Ayla told her that their head of security will be coming to see her in a minute. Kara can't deny that she's a little nervous. She'd never been in a place so...sectioned off from reality. Kara has never seen anywhere so organised since before the dead came back. Now that she's going to meet a person of power here, she doesn't know how it's going to go down. _What if they chuck me out without my gun and dagger? or if they kill me..._

"Hello miss," a tall man with curly greased hair and a uniform top greets Kara in a southern accent, although a weak one. He pulls a chair over and sits on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair.

"Uhm...hello," she mumbles. It's not that Kara is a shy person, she just had a sore throat and speaking is difficult.

"What's your name?"

She hesitates. Names are personal, if he knows it he has something to call her by, which implies he thinks she will be around here for a while. "Kara."

"Well Kara, I'm Rick Grimes. I keep charge of scouting trips and law inside this lil' sanctuary," he informed her with a slightly serious tone. "Now you're here because one of our men saw you heading for two of our own with your knife out. You were a latent threat and he sorta jumped the gun on you, literally. Now I hope you're not scarped up too bad, but I will be askin' you a few thangs." Kara grips the sheets on the bed and nods. "Now I know you were after your bag of things they'd taken, and that is perfectly understandable. But you'd clipped one of ours beforehand, two days ago, and at that time you'd put down a girl. She was also ours," her heart thumps wildly in her chest and she grips tighter. _He's going to kill me...I know it._ "I'd like to thank you for that second one, if she'd turned and got Dave bit, that woulda been tragic. We never let our own turn."

Kara closes her eyes, they'd been drying out. Maybe she'll be okay. "I'm sorry...for shooting that other guy," says Kara quietly.

Rick sucks the inside of his mouth, making a wet popping sound as he gives her a side grin. "He's alright, no need to be sorry about that. Now the questions. You best answer truthfully because you gotta believe that over time we'll find the truth... How many walkers have you killed?"

Kara frowns and looks up at him. "Walkers?"

"Yeah, those corpses you see walkin' around and eatin' people alive, how many you killled?"

"Oh...uhm," it's an odd question, Kara didn't think people kept track of the amount of undead they killed...at this point it's almost like he's asking her how many spiders she'd killed over the past three years. "I don't know."

"'lright...question number two. How many people have you killed?"

This one is definitely what he really cares about, that was obvious to her. Kara has killed 13 people for numerous reasons, mostly because they threatened her life. "I've killed 5," she lies.

"And why?"

"Because it was me or them," replies Kara firmly, pursing her lips.

"I see. Well I'm going to leave you now to rest. Carol will be 'round with your dinner in about ten minutes. You'll love her cooking," he assured her, getting up and leaving before she has the chance to say anything else.

"I'm surprised he didn't ask about that scar," Callin is back, grinning happily. "Though I guess Rick isn't one for being interested in things like that. It's all sooo serious with him," he plonks down on the end of Kara's bed and taps the right side of his forehead. "Where'd you get it? Doesn't look that old."

She runs her fingers over the red scar on her forehead, from her hairline to just above her eyebrow. Kara had gotten it from the very dagger she uses as her main weapon, the man who gave it to her is dead now. "None of your business," Kara glares at his blue eyes irritably.

"'Course," he smirks and she rolls her eyes. "Hey, after you have dinner wanna meet some of the other kids here?" he offers.

"Kids?! I'm not a kid you asshole," she snaps, glaring with more anger now.

"That's not what I meant, I'm the one who stitched you up, I think I can tell when a woman is a woman, you get me?" he winks and Kara slams a pillow against his stupid face again. _Dammit, I can feel the heat spreading through my face. What a jerk._

Carol, the woman who brings Kara some food, is a sweet woman. She has short grey hair and wears a v-neck jumper. She looks like she was made for this place. So ordinary. The only thing odd about her is that she looks young and old at the same time. Her face is creased with a lot of wrinkles but her smile is still young. She doesn't stay long, but her food is the best Kara has had for months, Pasta-bake. After eating, Kara falls asleep quite quickly and it lasts for hours longer than usual.


End file.
